That Which Is Never Said
by NamedAuthor
Summary: Evelyn Capella had grown up with them, had become part of the Weasley family. But is that enough for Bill, or are there some things he will never say? Bill/OFC. One-Shot. PreHP to Seventh Book. A snapshot into the life of Evelyn and Bill.


**This is merely the result of lazy days and nights off work. I've been on the hunt for some Bill/OC and/or Charlie/OC stories lately, and I got inspired.**

**For those following my other story, don't worry, I'm still working on it, I've just hit a wall (again) with it.**

**But for now enjoy this, sorry if it's short and feels rushed (it kinda was haha)**

* * *

Evelyn Capella had first come to the Burrow when she was only six years old. She was somewhat shy and held a certain reservedness that would never leave her. Perhaps, from someone on the outside looking in, it would have seemed impossible for someone who chose to speak only when she had something to say, to coexist in such a seemingly chaotic and loud environment. But where she didn't conform, she complimented.

Being closer in age to the two oldest Weasley boys it was to them that she found herself closest to. The boys themselves knew very little of their new friend, the girl who would spend months at a time at their home, only to disappear every now and again. She liked to play games with them and was wicked funny too.

When Bill went off to Hogwarts, Evelyn and Charlie would write to him, sometimes they would compose letters together, and sometimes they would send and receive letters individually. When his first year of school was over with and he returned home, Bill Weasley tried his best to hide his disappointment at her not being there to greet him.

When Charlie started Hogwarts, so too did Evelyn. But while Charlie joined Bill in Gryffindor, Evelyn found a new home in Hufflepuff. Despite this, their friendship did not waiver. Over the years the three formed their own separate friendships.

Bill, as predicted became increasingly popular throughout his schooling. His becoming prefect brought great joy to the Weasley family – especially Molly, who threw a big celebratory party, insisting that Evelyn join, of course – and his becoming Head Boy even more so. But no matter how many friends he acquired, he always made time for Evelyn, even if it was a simple smile across the Great Hall during dinner.

Charlie became a star Quidditch player, some said he was the best seeker Hogwarts had ever seen. In his final year, it was Evelyn he ran to when it came time to decide his future; Quidditch or dragons. Although it pained her, she could clearly see what path would bring him the most joy, and so she was the one who convinced him to apply for the reserve in Romania – a fact that she would never reveal to one Molly Weasley, who would most certainly never forgive her for sending her son away.

Evelyn fit into her house with ease. She surprised everyone by becoming a skilled dueller, apparently strange for someone so calm. A handful of loyal and true friends were all she'd ever needed, and that is what she'd found in Hufflepuff, and something for which she would forever be grateful for. But as grateful as she was for her new friends, she was doubly grateful that her old ones had never forgotten about her.

As they grew, the curiosity of the Weasley boys would deepen, especially when it came to matters concerning their oldest friend. They had long since established the fact that Evelyn Capella, sadly, was an orphan – although they had never confirmed it, not wanting to upset the girl by asking such a sensitive question. The fact that she would occasionally leave the Burrow, meant that she must have somewhere else to live, and someone else to live with. Who and where, they never found out, even after asking their mother about it. Molly would simply shake her head, cursing her son's curious natures before replying that Evelyn was well looked after, no matter where she was.

After Bill graduated, he would write to them both occasionally – more often to Evelyn than to Charlie, however. He became employed as a curse breaker through Gringotts bank, a job that took him to vast and varied countries, not exactly a job well suited for regular correspondence.

When the letters slowed and eventually stopped Evelyn couldn't help but to be saddened by it somewhat. This sadness all but vanished when they saw each other again at Christmas in her seventh year – it was, by far the biggest hug she'd ever received from anyone.

That was how it went between them. Speaking sparsely but for when they were together in the same place.

Evelyn and Charlie, however, were inseparable, even after he had moved to Romania. They had always had a different sort of friendship. It was more a comfortable sort of understanding that always passed between them. It was a friendship that Molly Weasley would always smile upon – a vastly different kind of smile she would wear when looking at Evelyn and her eldest mind you, that one was far slier and giddier.

Yes, Evelyn Capella had firmly become a permanent fixture of the Weasley family, she had met all the new additions and loved them all equally (well, almost equally). But nothing could quite prepare her for the day she met the latest adoptive child.

* * *

She'd always enjoyed the walk from the village to the Burrow. It wound through village streets and meandering woodland before opening up to the grounds surrounding the lopsided-looking structure, where the pigs would snort their greeting and the gnomes would scamper away from her.

That particular morning had been fairly routine. She'd picked up some things from the local shop for Molly, and was making her way up the drive towards the house when an old own swooped past her. She followed it's path, entering through the door to the kitchen. She was about to greet the room before noticing a small, dark-haired boy sat at the table next to Ron.

'Oh, he-hello,' she said, looking to Molly for answers.

'Hello, Evelyn dear,' Molly said, ushering her further into the room and relieving her of the bags she carried. 'Sit, have some breakfast.' Evelyn did what she was told and sat, across from the boy. Molly noticed her gaze. 'Oh, of course. Evelyn, this is Harry. Harry arrived just this morning.'

Evelyn's eyes had long since flicked quickly to the boy's forehead and taken in the scar there.

She did not look at it again, lest she be wracked with guilt.

From that moment, Evelyn swore that she would protect Harry Potter with all that she had.

* * *

He hadn't seen her in two years. Every time this thought entered his thinking, he was overcome by sadness, which was quickly replaced with a thrumming heartbeat and a furiously hot neck. What would he say to her? How would he greet her? He was sure that he had scared her the last time they saw each other when he'd scooped her up into a hug, his heart refusing to let go, but his head, keeping track of the time, forced him to let her go.

That was always the hardest part, letting her go. Every time they were reunited, meant that soon, he would have to say goodbye.

So it was with mixed feelings that he apparated to the Burrow the night before they were set to go to the Quidditch World Cup.

'Bill!'

That voice! Curse it and the sway it had over his heart, even after all this time. He was smiling even before he turned towards it, a smile that slipped a little by the sight he was met with.

Evelyn and Charlie. It was always Evelyn and Charlie. He knew that there was nothing but friendship between them – something of which Charlie had assured him of many times – but he could hardly give her the greeting he wanted to with her best friend and his brother standing beside her. Despite this, he managed to give her a quick hug before moving on to great Charlie.

This was going to be a long weekend.

It was a long weekend. But not in the way he thought it was going to be.

The events of the World Cup had them all rattled. Harry was confused to say the least, thankfully he had plenty of support around to help him sort things out. Bill was frustrated on the boy's behalf.

But it was Evelyn for whom Bill held the most concern. She looked pale, and the bags under her eyes grew night after night. Charlie had put off returning to Romania and the two could often be seen talking quietly to one another in the living room, or taking walks together to the village.

Bill was worried more than he was jealous. A worry that he brought up with Charlie one night before bed.

Charlie had looked at his brother for a long moment, as if he was deciding what to say. In the end – much to Bill's consternation – Charlie sighed, shaking his head as he pulled the covers over himself.

'Talk to her, Bill, and do us all a favour.'

That was all he said before flicking his wand and extinguishing the lights.

Bill tried not to grind his teeth as he stared at the ceiling.

* * *

It was another two years before they were reunited once again, Bill only wished it was under better circumstances.

He'd woken to something warm on his face. Reaching up to find the cause he felt the unmistakable feeling of sunlight, and of still slightly damp gashes. The events of the previous night, the attack on the castle, the sight of her running up the corridor towards him, the beast that pounced on him, it all came crashing upon him.

From the sea of confusion, an anchor, in the form of an object applying pressure on his chest, steadied his breathing, and his vision cleared.

She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. In that moment, he knew he'd never be free of her pull. Even the lovely French Vela couldn't break him of her.

She looked so worried as she called for Madame Pomfrey. Worry that she tried to mask as she saw that his eyes were opened.

'It's okay, you're safe now.' She said, her offered smile somewhat forced.

And in that moment, he knew. And it was the loudest thought in his head, even as Pomfrey and Lupin explained what had happened and how his life would change, even as his mother and father embraced him, his mother's tears wetting his shirt. Even as he remembered the look of utter fear in the face running up the corridor towards him the night before.

He loved Evelyn Capella, he always had.

* * *

When he'd stirred and found Charlie's bed empty, he hadn't thought anything of it. True it was clearly late at night, he hadn't turned in till close to midnight, but it was inevitable when one finds themselves in a house holding as many people as the Burrow currently was, that there would always be someone up and about at any given time. He was about to dismiss it and roll over to resume his slumber when he heard muffled voices from somewhere outside. Again, this wasn't something that would have given him pause, one was forced to get used to such things while trying to sleep, but what he wasn't quite used to was the tone of said voices. Someone was fighting, and it definitely didn't sound like his parents.

Almost as soon as he'd left his room and made it to the top of the stairs, did he recognise the voice's owners. He'd found Charlie at least. As for the second voice, he cursed the ability it had to set is heart racing.

Not wanting to be seen, Bill paused and sat on the staircase, keeping as still as possible while he listened.

'- know you're scared, bu –'

'It's war, Charlie, everyone's scared.'

'Is that why you're doing this?' The frustration in Charlie's voice was palpable, and confusing. Bill almost never heard his brother like this. 'Well, I mean, if everyone's worried in general, they hardly need to be worrying for anything specific.'

Evelyn groaned in obvious frustration – something that Bill had definitely heard before, though it was lacking it's customary playfulness.

'Stop trying to turn this all on me!'

'Why not! You're worried too! Pretend all you like, but I saw you at breakfast this morning.'

Bill's mind frenzied as he tried to recall the events of the previous morning's breakfast. He'd noticed that she looked a bit pale, as she'd read the Daily Prophet. It was only for a moment, but he'd noticed, nonetheless. He'd always notice these seemingly fleeting things when it came to her. And it turns out he wasn't the only one.

He resisted the urge to descend further down the stairs as footsteps preceded Charlie's lowered voice.

'Would it be such a bad thing? If someone knew about –'

'_You_ know.'

'I meant someone who could do something about it.'

Another groan, softer this time. 'You don't understand.'

'You're right, I don't! So why don't you explain it for me!'

Even from his place on the stairs, Bill could feel the tension, it's tendrils curling from the living room. He didn't think he'd ever seen this side of them. Evelyn and Charlie's friendship had been the strongest of all the others that they had had. Throughout Evelyn's intermittent upbringing at the Burrow, it had been her and Charlie before anyone else. Bill didn't think he'd ever heard them fight, or even thought it possible . . . clearly, he had been wrong.

'It's not important!'

'_Not important_'

'That's right!' Bill had to blink back his shock at hearing the fire in her voice. 'There's only one point of importance I care about right now, and that's the sixteen-year-old boy upstairs. Everything else is, most certainly, unimportant.'

There was one thing he didn't find surprising at all. For some reason, Evelyn had always been especially close to Harry, despite the age difference and that they had never attended school together. It went the same for Harry as well. From the day the two met, they'd acted more like siblings than strangers.

'And when will it become important, Lyn?' Bill cured the fact that even now, with the heat of the conversation, that he still felt a ping of jealousy at the use of the nickname. Charlie was the only one to ever get away with calling her that, no one else even bothered to try. 'When you're injured, perhaps? When you're captured? When everyone gathers together to cry at your funeral?!'

Bill's stomach swelled with violent waves of nausea at the implications of Charlie's words. What the hell was going on here! The waves were gaining momentum until he heard his name.

'Have you even spoken to Bill since you've been back?'

No, she hadn't. Not really.

'What's that got to do with anything?'

'You know what it's got to do with, Lyn. You can't avoid him forever.'

Another strained groan. 'Argh, I don't have time to worry about whatever it is that goes on inside your brother's head, Charlie. If Bill wants to talk to me, I'm not stopping him, but I don't need you using him against me.'

The constant noise of footsteps, of things being pushed out of the way, even the sound of the fire, crackling softly in the hearth, all seemed to stop as Bill attempted to digest all that he'd just heard.

The sound of the back-door opening had him being drawn back to the present.

'Are you really going to wait until it's too late?'

There was a pause, Bill's own heartbeat the only thing he could hear.

'Goodnight, Charlie.' Her voice held a tiredness that went well beyond a lack of sleep. The door closed and Charlie loosed a long, drawn-out, equally as tired-sounding sigh.

Bill had to force his body to rise from his place on the stairs and return to bed.

Once there, he rolled on his side, his back facing the door and Charlie's bed. But sleep was something that would not come to him for the rest of the night as he lay and think. What had he just heard? Was Evelyn in danger? If she was then why would she ignore it so fiercely? It made him upset and angry in equal measure.

Charlie returned to the room some time later. Bill could tell his brother was frustrated, his movements were short, abrupt, not as careful as he would normally be with Bill apparently sleeping soundly a few feet away.

One thing was for certain, sometime soon, Bill would confront Evelyn . . . even if the prospect was one he feared.

* * *

Fred was . . . Fred had been . . . it was impossible. Even standing here, looking at his . . . it was impossible. The logical part of him, telling him that he must go and continue fortifying the castle's defences was being drowned out by the cries of grief coming from his heart.

And even as the voice of Voldemort was heard once more, even as the body of Harry Potter was shown to them, and then came back to life in front of their eyes, even as all hell once again broke loose, his heart was still screaming.

Until he saw her in that crazed woman's arms.

Then it stopped.

'How beautiful you have become, daughter.'

_Daughter._

His heart spluttered.

Evelyn didn't look like she was breathing as a wand tip pressed against her throat, drawing small droplets of blood already. She looked frantically at those who had circled her, Shacklebolt, McGonagall, Charlie, Bill. She looked longest at Bill, even as her cheek was stroked.

By Bellatrix Lestrange.

_Daughter._

Not Evelyn Capella.

Evelyn Lestrange.

He lost track of what happened next. It would take him days to fully remember what took place. When his memory returned his remembered how Evelyn rejected her mother, how she duelled her and won, how Voldemort raged and was defeated. He remembered how Evelyn had fought, how Evelyn had won, and how Evelyn had lie unconscious, bleeding and wounded on the castle floor as a result.

'_And when will it become important, Lyn? When you're injured, perhaps? When you're captured? When everyone gathers together to cry at your funeral?!'_

As everyone celebrated, Bill gathered Evelyn and rushed her to the Hospital Wing, crying for Pomfrey to save her. It took both Charlie and Harry to restrain him so that Pomfrey and the others could save her.

. . . That was three days ago and finally, her eyes were open.

His neck strained, sore from sleeping in a chair, as he looked down at her and smiled, smiled for the first time in what felt like years.

He felt his heart start beating again as she smiled weakly up at him.

Bill took her hand in his own, kissing her knuckles. Placing a hand on the side of her face and revelling in the way she leaned into it, his smile grew.

'It's okay,' he said, his eyes never leaving hers, 'you're safe now.'

* * *

**Thoughts? Sorry about the lack of dialogue but I hope you enjoyed it.**

**P.S. I might write one from Evelyn's POV if you like this one**


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